


every time i don’t (i almost do)

by japrlls



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Angst, F/M, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/japrlls/pseuds/japrlls
Summary: in which maya thinks she can ignore her feelings for lucas forever, but when she pulls his name for secret santa, she has to face the truth.





	every time i don’t (i almost do)

**Author's Note:**

> This is like the longest fic I’ve written yet huh, hope y’all like it !!

Maya was angry. That wasn’t saying much for her, though-- Maya was pissed off a lot of the time. This was different, though. Secret Santa was always a burden on her. Maya usually struggled to figure out the perfect gift for whoever she got, but this was so much worse. In the previous years, she had never pulled  _ his _ name out. 

Lucas Friar.

Even before everything that had happened, Maya had always been scared of having to get him a gift. Feelings aside, she always felt she didn’t know him well enough to get him the right thing. She never planned on saying it aloud, but she cared a lot about what Lucas thought of her. Lucas didn’t think Maya liked him anymore, after she had sent him to Riley at the Mount Sun Ski Lodge the previous month, but she still did. Even if she didn’t, he was still her friend. She still liked him a lot, though. What could she possibly give him? Something that didn’t show too much emotion, so he didn’t get suspicious, but something that had to show that she cared.

Since when did friendships get so complicated?

Maya grimaced, staring at her blank canvas, wondering what in hell she should paint. After deliberating for a while, she had decided to paint Lucas something. It would show she cared enough to put effort into her gift, but how could she make it mean something to him? What could she possibly paint that would strike up emotion in him, something that he would love, but something that wouldn’t show how she really felt. She kept drawing up short, having no clue. Her mind continuously jumped back to a campfire in Texas-- but no, she couldn’t paint that. It probably didn’t mean much to him in the first place, but even so, it was  _ inappropriate _ . Lucas was dating Riley. If she wanted to paint a scene of romance, she would have to paint a subway car or maybe a library. But never a campfire.

Maya angrily jammed her paintbrush into the black paint, and began to work. She wasn’t really paying much attention to what she was doing, though. She liked to just let her mind wander and let her emotions take care of the art. The pieces usually turned out more meaningful when she did that, Maya had noticed. 

The thing was, Maya was just upset. She didn’t understand why bad things kept happening to her. She didn’t like feeling like she was at the mercy of fate, something she had never believed in anyway; she had always believed that she was in control of her own life, that no one could make her choices for her. However, that hadn’t seemed to be the case as of late. With the triangle, and Riley springing a whole identity crisis on Maya, and really just the whole year, Maya had felt pushed around by every aspect of her life. That’s one reason why Maya hated Secret Santa. She had no  _ choice _ in who to focus on. She had to pull a name out of a hat, blind, unsure of who she would get. Why did she have to get Lucas? 

Maya didn’t hate him. She never was able to, it seemed. Even when she really wanted to. It would be so much easier for her if she wasn’t still hung up on him. At least she had been able to walk away on her own terms. At least it wasn’t his fault she was hurt. As much as Maya wanted to blame Lucas for her broken heart, every single part of her was painfully aware that she had really brought this all on herself. Lucas was not to blame. Lucas goddamn Friar, with his stupid blue shirts, dumb chiseled face, inane muscles, ludicrous green eyes, his ridiculous big heart-- he was not in the wrong. He was just a teenage boy. Maya, who ran away from her problems, who pushed everyone away, who let her heart run her life-- why did she have to be so aware of her thoughts? The triangle really  _ had _ changed her, just not in the way Riley thought it did. Maya had not become Riley. Maya had simply had to become logical, to see the world in a way where facts and figures mattered. If there hadn’t been this whole  _ situation _ , Maya would have been able to live as she always had-- do first, ask questions later. But no. She hadn’t been able to for the past year.  _ But now you can, right, Maya? _ That little voice in the back of her head nagged her.

Maya wished she could. She yearned for the days before anyone knew about how she felt. Maybe it had hurt her, but it didn’t sting nearly as much as it did now. She had had to lie to Lucas. She had had to push him away, into Riley’s arms. At least they were both happy. Maya figured that should be enough. She would get over Lucas eventually, right?

_ Then why do you keep thinking about that campfire? _

Maya blinked, stepping back from her canvas. She had been working for a while, maybe an hour, completely immersed in her thoughts. Stepping back, she realized what she had painted. What she had been trying to avoid.

Maya had been dabbling in different styles lately. She had been trying out less detailed paintings, that were definitely depicting a scene, but were more abstract, more...blurry. She had painted a black sky full of stars, obscured somewhat by green trees. Logs surrounded a campfire, the flames jumping out. Two figures stood next to it. Two figures painstakingly familiar. Two scared kids, one holding the other’s face in their hands. The figures were not detailed, but anyone who had been in Texas with them that night would know who they were. Lucas in his stupid red shirt, tenderly holding Maya’s face. Maya had been so afraid that night, scared of her feelings. She had always been terrified by how strong she felt for Lucas, but that night…

Why did she have to go and paint that?

It was a waste of materials, really. She obviously wasn’t going to give it to Lucas, and she wasn’t going to hang the painting up or anything. She doubted she would even  _ keep _ it. Why would she want to remind herself of all of these feelings? Maya glowered, taking the canvas off of her easel and placing it on her rack to dry. She had a few canvasses in her room, there for her to use whenever she had inspiration or just needed to throw all her emotions on it. Maya picked up another, placing it on the easel. She was back to the question of what the hell to paint. She knew she would have to pay attention this time, so she wouldn’t go and paint another campfire, or a roof party at New Year’s, or anything like that. Although Maya would sometimes find herself sketching Lucas’ face, she couldn’t do anything now. Just...something simpler.

Maya really had no idea what to do. Her mind was empty, completely blank. She kept drawing up short. What meant something to Lucas? She wasn’t going to go paint a portrait of Riley or anything, and she didn’t feel comfortable painting his family. A cowboy hat? No, she couldn’t keep making fun of him, because she did that because she liked him. Even though she had slipped earlier, saying “I won’t say if it’s a him or hahurr,” (although that one didn’t really count, Lucas wasn’t even there) she felt like it would just clue people in. It wasn’t fair for her to tease him anymore, anyway. It was inappropriate, wasn’t it? So what the hell was she left with? 

Wait! She grinned, suddenly struck with inspiration. She would paint Lucas’ ranch back in Texas. He loved it there, and if she painted it up against a background of a starry night sky, it would be meaningful to Lucas. She knew he missed it sometimes. She knew he missed his horses, or just the place itself. She had walked in on Lucas facetiming his horses before-- if she added a couple horses in the painting, maybe it would make him smile. Yeah, that’s what she would do. Maya got to work, humming a bit as she went. It hurt a bit not to be able to make something more meaningful, sure-- but as long as Lucas was happy, it didn’t really matter whether she was sad or not. He would love it. She was sure of that, at least.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Maya had completed the painting, she had taken a step back, admiring her work with a soft smile on her face. She was proud of it. It was always nice to enjoy something  _ she _ had made, to feel good about herself. Maya didn’t usually have great self-esteem, something she was somewhat aware of-- but damn, it felt good to make something beautiful. Maya set it on the rack to dry, on the shelf under the painting of the campfire, which she ignored. 

Walking over to her dresser, Maya plugged her phone into the speakers she had, putting on Feel It Still by Portugal. The Man, and turning up the volume. It was always nice to just chill out in her room, dance a bit to some music, let her guard down. She began to dance a bit, but was jolted back to reality when she heard a knock at her window. She froze, spotting Zay, wrapped up in his winter coat, looking freezing as hell. Maya rushed over, opening the window for him, not even flinching when the cold air met her skin. Zay tumbled through. “God, Zay, you’re getting snow everywhere,” Maya chortled, as Zay got up. 

“WHAT?” He shouted over her music, which was, she had to admit, was turned up to a tremendous volume.

“I SAID, YOU GOT SNOW EVERYWHERE.”

“HEY, I DO TOO GOT UNDERWEAR!” Maya sighed, turning off the music. Zay rolled his eyes. “Thank you. I’m only a little deaf now.” Maya coughed, her cough sounding a lot like  _ typical! _

“What’re you doing here, anyway?” Maya asked, furrowing her brow. It wasn’t unusual for Zay to show up unannounced, but she wasn’t sure what could have prompted it. 

“Nothin’ much. Figured you’d just want to hang out, I guess.” Zay just shrugged, heading over to the chair in the corner of her room and sitting down. Maya flinched, rushing over to hide her painting of the campfire on the shelf under the other painting. 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Maya replied nonchalantly, grabbing her sketchbook and pencil, not wanting to seem suspicious. “You could’ve texted me and let me know you were coming over.”

“What? So I wouldn’t catch your little dance party?” Zay asked, arching a brow curiously, obviously taking note of Maya’s flushed face. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you let your hair down.”

Maya rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“So, you figure out what you’re getting Lucas for Christmas yet?” Zay asked, playing with some loose threads on the arm of the chair. Maya went over and sat on the edge of her bed so they weren’t across the room from each other. 

“Uh...yeah, I guess. Figured I’d paint him something.”

“Oh, damn, that’s cool. He’ll like that a lot,” Zay replied. “He’s always liked your art.”

Maya swallowed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Zay didn’t seem to be that caught up on the topic, much to Maya’s relief. “Anyway, I have some fresh new gossip,” Zay grinned, excited to tell her. Maya snorted. Zay was always eager to learn and share gossip. 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Maya asked, opening her sketchbook up to a blank page, sketching absentmindedly. 

“I heard…” He leaned in a bit, grinning cockily. “I heard that Amber Kavinsky and Jonah Martin broke up. Thought you might wanna get on that before you lose your chance.”

“Which one of them, exactly?”

“I don’t know, whatever you’re feelin’.”

“Well, thank you, Zay, but I’m gonna have to pass.”

Zay scoffed. “C’mon, girl. You should get out there! After all...after everything,” he said, flushing a bit. The triangle was still an uncomfortable topic for some of them, Maya in particular. She pretended it wasn’t, but Zay saw through that. The two had bonded a lot over the previous summer, and Zay was quite keen at reading her. “Besides, they’re both  _ hot _ .”

Maya grimaced. She’d really been wanting to avoid all conversations about romance  _ forever _ , or at least for a while. She didn’t like lying to her friends, but she was not about to tell them the truth about how she felt for Lucas, so it was easier to just not talk about anything of the sort. “Zay, I’m not really looking for romance right now.”

Zay raised his eyebrow suspiciously. “Because of that Josh dude?”

“Yeah, cause of Josh,” Maya replied flatly, crossing her arms across her chest. “We have the long game, remember?”

“Look, M, I respect all your choices, I do, but something irks me about Josh. Like...why is a freshman in college interested in dating a girl fresh out of middle school?”

“I’m mature,” Maya said indignantly. “Besides, we knew each other before he was 18. And we’re not even dating right now. We just will-”

“When the relationship is legal?” Zay interrupted. Maya shot him a glare. Zay put his hands up in surrender. “You make your own choices, and I respect your impeccable judgement. I just think...I don’t know. What does Lucas think about Josh?”

Maya hadn’t been expecting that question. “What does Lucas have to do with this?”

“Just thought our resident moral compass would be a good judge of character, no?”

Maya thought back to the times Lucas and Josh had actually spoken. During game night back in seventh grade, they had gotten along fine, although they hadn’t spoken much at all. Lucas had been kinda on edge around Josh when they were at the ski lodge, his jaw clenching whenever Maya brought him up. “I don’t know, Zay. He probably doesn’t care.” And why should he? 

Zay rolled his eyes. “Of course he cares.”

“I don’t get why any of you do. It’s my business, not yours.”

“We’re your friends, Hart. And he’s your-”

“Don’t say it.”

Zay shook his head in exasperation. “We can’t dance around the subject forever, M. I think you know that.”

Maya swallowed. God, she would never be able to avoid this, would she? “I don’t care about Lucas. He can think what it wants, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“So you’re  _ sure _ you don’t like him anymore.”

“Positive.”

“Then why are you drawing him?”

Maya looked down at her sketchbook, where she had been drawing absentmindedly for the past few minutes. Zay was right-- she had begun to sketch Lucas, just his smiling face. Maya flushed a bit, snapping the book shut. “He just has a sketchable face, that’s all,” she said haughtily, crossing her arms across her chest. Zay snorted, but he dropped the subject.

Zay left a few minutes later, climbing out her window and waving before disappearing from view. Maya fell back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maya had convinced herself she would be able to put the past behind her, but her conversation with Zay proved otherwise. She couldn’t keep finding herself sketching him, painting their moments together, or humming  _ No Place Like You _ while writing her essays. The past haunted her, and she wished it would just go away. Maya had tried to believe the long game she had with Josh would protect her from heartache, but she realized now that was just not going to happen, apparently.

Maya propped herself up, opening her sketchbook and picking up her pencil. She continued the sketch, paying attention to detail. She had Lucas’ face memorized, the way he looked at her. The way he  _ used _ to look at her. 

She captured the emotion he held in his eyes, the tender look on his face. How she wished he would look at her now. She had ridden herself of guilt at the ski lodge, but her shame kept creeping back. She felt terrible that she had these feelings for Lucas, who was  _ Riley’s _ boyfriend. It wasn’t fair of her to.

She kept drawing him anyway. How else could she express these emotions? She had sworn to bottle them up forever. This was her only outlet. 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Maya opened her locker, quickly unlocking the lock with her combination and yanking the door open. A few loose sheets of paper fell out, which she crammed back in absentmindedly. It was pretty late in the semester, and Maya had just been letting herself get less and less organized. _ Riley would probably throw a hissy fit if I started being responsible,  _ Maya thought bitterly, although shame washed over her right after. Maya was angry at Riley, but she desperately didn’t want to be. It wasn’t fair for her to feel this way. Riley had only been trying to help her, right?

Speaking of Riley, the brunette was rushing down the hall towards Maya, smiling. “Hey, Peaches!” She cheered, brushing some loose hairs behind her ear. “Lucas called. He said he’s coming back Wednesday!” It was only the first day after winter break, a frosty and chilling Monday morning. 

“That’s great, Riles,” Maya smiled, shoving her coat into her locker.

“Did you get his gift yet?” Riley asked, and Maya froze. 

“Uh...yeah, I did. I guess I’ll mail it, so he doesn’t know its from me right away…?” Maya trailed off, knowing her logic was flawed. But Riley didn’t, and that was the point. Maya wanted to keep her gift secret until Lucas chose to show people, if he wanted to at all. It was  _ his _ gift after all. “What did he get you?”

Riley’s smile got even brighter after Maya asked. “It was so sweet! He donated to the Malala Fund in my name, and he sent me a card!” Riley reached into her purse, pulling out a heart-shaped card. Maya furiously swallowed the lump in her throat. The card read, 

_ To Riley: _

_ Merry Christmas! Sorry I couldn’t be with you guys this year. I hope you love your gift. It’s the perfect gift for the perfect girl. _

_ Love, _

_ Lucas. _

Maya felt her vision blur, but she blinked back the tears quickly. She forced a smile, looking up at Riley. “He’s so sappy, Riles. But the perfect amount of sap for you.” Maya wasn’t  _ unhappy _ for Riley. She loved the fact that this card made Riley so giddy, but part of Maya just wished it could be over something else. 

Riley beamed. “He’s just the sweetest, Peaches. I just want to thank you again for everything. Without you, I would never have been with him. I owe you everything.”

Maya smiled weakly. “Of course, Riles. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

After school, Maya had rushed home to wrap and send the painting to Lucas. She grabbed it off the top rack, flipping it over and hurriedly wrapping it. She made sure it was neat enough, but she didn’t make sure it was perfect like Riley always insisted on doing when wrapping gifts. Maya stuck the little card on the wrapping, where it read:  _ Merry Christmas, Lucas. Here’s a little bit of home for you _ .

She put it in a UPS box that had originally contained her acrylic paints she had ordered months ago, using packing tape to close it, and writing Lucas’ address on it. 

Maya gave it to her mom to bring the post office, thanking her for taking care of the shipping. The whole day had really been exhausting for Maya-- in English, she had had to write an in-class essay, she had the hardest math quiz all year, and Mr. Matthews had given them 10 pages of notes to do, not to mention how she had been thinking about Lucas’ card to Riley pretty much all day. She kept going over the words in her head, imagining it was written to her, and hating herself for it. 

Maya stood in her room, fiddling with her speaker, making sure her phone was plugged in properly. She pressed shuffle on her playlist, and set her phone back down on the dresser.  _ burning bridges _ by Bea Miller came on, and Maya let herself go, dancing along to the music. Who gave a shit about it? She didn’t care how stupid she probably looked. She didn’t care that she was singing along to the words, thinking of Lucas’ stupid face the whole time. 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_ Fuck.  _ Maya had stopped her music abruptly after noticing the lack of the campfire painting on her drying rack.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _ Sure enough, the painting of Lucas’ ranch was still on the top shelf, and the campfire one was  _ gone _ . Maya ran her hand through her hair, stunned at her stupidity. She had royally fucked up. 

_ It can’t be that bad, can it? I mean, mom only took it to the post office two hours ago, _ Maya thought to herself, trying to calm down. She was aware she was fully freaking out. God damnit. How had she not noticed she was wrapping the wrong painting? She could only imagine the can of worms this would open. This was  _ terrible _ . If Riley found out, she would be so upset and disappointed. And Lucas? Maya was sure he would be angry. Angry at her for lying to him, angry at her for daring to send him a reminder of their short lived romance while he was dating her  _ best friend _ . God  _ damnit. _

_ Okay, it’s okay, Maya. Just go to the post office. They’re busy, right? They probably haven’t sent it yet. It’s okay. _

Maya threw on her coat, yelling to her mom that she was going out. Hurriedly putting on her boots, Maya tried to take deep breaths, narrowly avoiding the full blown panic she was skirting the edge of. She was astounded at her own failure to pay attention when it mattered. This was the dumbest mistake she could’ve made in that moment. 

Maya climbed out her window, down the fire escape, and hurried down the streets. She was fairly certain where the post office was-- it was on the way to the subway, so she walked by it everyday before school. Sure enough, the place was roughly five minutes away, with Maya basically sprinting there. The cold winter wind bit at her skin-- she hadn’t put on gloves, and she was pretty sure she would get frostbite. However, Maya kept moving, the ongoing mantra of “fuck fuck fuck fuck” running through her head the entire time. 

Maya burst through the doors of the post office, definitely turning a few heads as she charged in. There was a line, but she ducked under the rope, much to the dismay of the other customers. She didn’t care, though. She doubted their problems were as urgent as hers in that moment. When one window opened, Maya rushed over, slamming her hands down on the counter. “My mom dropped off a package to mail, but I want it back.”

“Miss, you can’t-- we have a line!”

“Please. It was addressed to Lucas Friar.” The lady behind the desk shot Maya a dirty look, but retreated to the back. Maya tapped her fingers on the counter impatiently as she waited, adrenaline coursing through her veins.  _ Go, go, go. _ The lady came back out, shaking her head.

“Sorry, Miss. Package wasn’t there.”

“Fuck,” Maya hissed. “When was it-- shipped?”

The lady didn’t seem too happy with Maya’s manners. “A truck left five minutes ago. The package had an estimated delivery of 15 minutes.”

“Well, can you call them and tell them I need my package back?” Maya asked, frustrated. This was all going so horribly  _ wrong. _

“No, I can’t. We have a schedule, miss.” Maya huffed, turning on her heel and storming out. She could make it to Lucas’ by then, she thought. She wasn’t too far away from where Lucas lived, which was near Riley’s apartment, actually. She figured if she called an Uber, she could get there before the package. Maya had no qualms with stealing the package, either. It was her property to begin with, right?

After ordering her Uber, it arrived in a couple minutes, having been only two blocks away. She hopped in the back seat, buckling hurriedly. “Please go as fast as you can. Just floor it.” The driver ignored her, turning up his Kidz Bop music. A horrible cover of a beautiful song,  _ No Tears Left To Cry _ , came on. Maya cringed, but the driver jammed out to the music the whole ride. Maya was anxious the whole way, tapping her fingers on her knees and bouncing her legs. She was extremely jittery, her nerves overwhelming her. 

Several Kidz Bop songs later, they arrived. Maya thanked the driver, climbing out of the car. She looked over at the entrance to Lucas’ building, and she breathed a sigh of relief. There was no package on the steps. 

_ Thank God, _ Maya thought. But she had spoken too soon. After looking down the street at the retreating Uber, another vehicle caught her eye.

A truck that looked a lot like a USPIS truck.

The fucks were back. 

Maya raced up the stone steps. She knew where the spare key was, luckily-- predictably tucked under the doormat. She had remembered this from when she, Farkle, and Lucas had gone to Lucas’ apartment to work on a project, but Lucas had forgotten his keys at school. Maya had teased him about it for about a week.

But in any case, she was able to get in the building. There was an elevator, but Maya didn’t have the patience to wait for it. She took the stairs, the adrenaline carrying her up the four flights. When she reached the landing, Maya was panting for air, but she wasn’t about to let that slow her down. Rushing down the hallway, she reached his door, and hammered on it. After knocking for a solid seven seconds, she heard a muffled voice and footsteps. Lucas opened the door, smiling when he saw Maya. Lucas was wearing a blue sweater and dark denim jeans, his hair a bit askew. “What’re you doing here?” He asked, confused. The last time she had been here-- well, she hadn’t been in the best state of mind.

She rested her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. “I-- needed--too…”

“It’s great timing, actually,” Lucas said genially. “I just got a package. Says it’s from you. I already started opening it, but I didn’t finish, cause, well…” He trailed off, ending his ramble with a sheepish grin. Maya straightened up, running a hand through her hair. She was too late. “Come on in. I want to thank you, you know, after I open it.”

“Lucas-- wait--” He had already started walking back into the apartment. Maya grimaced, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind her. She had no idea what would happen. For once, that scared her.

Maya followed him down the hallway, to his bedroom. She felt a little awkward standing there, but Lucas didn’t seem to mind. Maya stood there, tapping her foot as Lucas picked up the partially-opened gift. He removed the rest of the wrapping paper. Maya spotted the already opened card on his dresser, and felt dread build in her stomach.  _ There’s no going back now, Maya _ .

Lucas flipped over the canvas to look at the painting. Maya watched him anxiously as he looked over her work. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, and Maya clasped her hands behind her back, just waiting. She thought she saw the corners of his mouth turn up, but when she blinked, he wasn’t smiling. Lucas cleared his throat, looking up from the painting and to her. Maya suddenly felt very small.

Lucas paused for a moment before he spoke. “Thank you, Maya. It’s...it’s beautiful.” 

Maya nodded. “O-of course.” Lucas gave her a soft smile, and for a split second, Maya caught a familiar look in his eye. He set the painting down, and stepped towards her. Maya gulped, her mind jumping back to the last time he was this close. The last time she had pushed him away.

Lucas wrapped his arms around her in a familiar way. Maya froze at the sudden contact, unsure what to do. After a moment of hesitation, she returned the embrace, but pulling back a second later. The tips of Lucas’ ears were flushed pink as he stepped back. Maya gave him a smile, before she said goodbye and turned to leave. 

“Wait.” Maya stopped in her tracks, spinning back to face him hesitantly. Lucas walked over to his nightstand, and pulled a small object from the drawer. “Here,” he said warmly, walking back and putting the object in her hand. Maya looked down at it. He had given her a magnet, with a picture of a cowboy, and it read, “My lasso is powered by the spirit of Texas!”

Maya looked up at him quizzically, raising an eyebrow. The tips of Lucas’ ears were a bright red now. “Thought it would be funny,” he said, his voice a little more subdued.

“You weren’t supposed to get me a gift,” Maya reminded him.

“I know. I just saw this in the airport and thought of you. You know, cause of…” He trailed off, but Maya caught his drift. 

“I like it very much, Huckleberry,” Maya said, a soft grin dancing across her face. She let herself slip, to call him a name, to just miss it when she could feel free with him. Lucas returned her smile, absentmindedly ruffling his hair with his hand.    
“Thanks again, Maya,” Lucas called after her as she left. Maya’s face was flushed red from humiliation as she quickly exited the apartment. She could feel a lump in her throat, and part of her wanted to cry.  _ No, Maya. You don’t get to cry over him anymore. _

On the subway ride home, Maya was trapped in her thoughts, worried about her exchange with Lucas. Would this open a can of worms? Or would they just ignore it? Only time would tell, and she knew that. It scared her. 

Maya had always believed history repeated itself. The best friend never got the guy. It was fact, time and time again, and yet, she had let herself hope. If history repeated itself, the future was predictable. Maya had always thought this. There was no such thing as coincidence, no such thing as fate. So where had her hope come from? Why was she sitting on the subway, absorbed in her thoughts about the green-eyed Texan? He did something to her she couldn’t explain. History repeats itself. So why was she still here?

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Lucas watched Maya leave, unable to process his thoughts. His mind felt muddled-- he was confused, and there was some sort of pang in his chest. He heard the front door close. Lucas looked back down at the gift, running his finger lightly across it, staring down at the blurred figures. Maya had always been an amazing artist. He had always known this, ever since he first saw her artwork. She had never given him any of her work before. It was special to him, no matter what she had painted.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? It was what she had painted that made his heart ache. It was the scene she had laid out onto the canvas, the memory that he had thought over a million times. 

Lucas missed the Maya he had known.

Maya had changed, but not in the way Riley had thought.

Lucas wasn’t sure why, and he didn’t understand, but he knew that the Maya he had feelings for was still there, repressed. The Maya that had sent him to Riley was not the same Maya he nearly kissed at the campfire.    
He wished he had kissed her.

_ Stop that, _ he reprimanded himself.  _ You’re dating Riley. You can’t keep doing this. _ No matter what he told himself, he always came back to the blonde beauty. He had a big heart, and she had it in her hands, even if she didn’t know. Lucas liked Riley a lot, he did. He would never lead her on. It was odd, though, because there was definitely a difference between the feelings he had for Riley and the feelings he had for Maya. He just couldn’t put it into words.

His mind always went back to an October night, sitting in the bay window. He had been excited, guilty, and hopeful all at once. He had figured out who he wanted to be with. It had all come into place, finally-- he was ready. He was ready to work out the conflicts it might create, to experience the joy and the pain and whatever might follow. He had chosen Maya.

But Lucas also remembers the look on Maya’s paint-stained face when she had shut him down. He didn’t have a chance to tell her it was  _ her _ he wanted. It was  _ Maya _ who he craved, who he would still stare at in class, often finding himself zoning out. Maya had said she had been Riley, so if he had chosen her, he chose Riley. Lucas had been too shocked and  _ hurt _ to be able to reply, but he wished more than ever now that he had spoken up.

Now, he was looking down at a painting that contradicted what he had been led to believe for the past month or so. Maya had said she didn’t like him, she had never liked him, she had just been Riley. If that was true, why had she painted this campfire? Why had she painted a moment that had meant so much to him, given it to him with a note? Giving him a piece of home?

What did it mean?

Lucas set the painting on the top of his dresser, running a hand through his hair as he walked towards his bed, falling backwards onto it. He stared at the ceiling, his hand still in his hair. 

Maybe there was still hope.

Maybe, someday, they could happen.

But he had Riley now. This perfect girl who was perfect for him in so many ways. Lucas was happy with her, but he felt like something was off. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe he never would.

Lucas hoped with all his heart that someday, he would figure it out.

But for now, he had to be content with what he had.

Lucas knew he could do that.

Lucas had hope. 

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on ig (japrlls) and tumblr (alynelsons) !!


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